


Intermezzo

by missdibley



Series: The Red Nose Diaries [69]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Aural sex, Cuddling, Exhibitionism, Existing Relationship, F/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism, i like to watch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 20:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11905659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: While Carmen's conference call goes long, Tom finds a way to to kill time while he waits.





	Intermezzo

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean what am I doing?”

Tom didn’t immediately reply. Instead, he kept twirling a ring of keys around the index finger of his right hand. Standing in the lounge, home early from rehearsal, he expected to find Carmen ready to go out.

She was not ready to go out.

Carmen was on the phone, peering at the laptop she had set up in the dining room. Still dressed for work in a silk blouse and pencil skirt, she paced around the dining table in her stocking feet.

“The four o'clock showing of _An Inconvenient Sequel_ , remember?” Tom reminded her when she came to a stop in front of him.

“Hold on.” Carmen turned away from him, pressing her hip against the table as she leaned against it. “Yes. That is correct. We should have… they haven’t approved the verbiage…” She huffed. “Six weeks ago. Yes, they know we need it for Q4.”

Carmen hunched over, her shoulders pulled in. When Tom approached and placed a hand lightly against the back of her neck, she relaxed into his touch. When she turned back to face him, she smiled. Pressing her phone against her shoulder to silence it instead of tapping the mute button on the device, she shrugged.

“Sorry, I just…” She bit her lip. “Is there a later show we can make?”

Tom consulted his phone. “There is but.” He tried not to frown. “Not until ten o’clock, love.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll do the best I can, okay?” She put the phone back up to her ear. Going up on balls of her feet to kiss Tom, Carmen then left him hanging when she rocked back onto her heels, having heard something on the other end that she didn’t like.

“Wait.” Her brow furrowed, she listened. “I thought we agreed we were going to hold off on the NYSE announcement until they… they moved it up? So it’s Thursday morning now? And they want us to do a remote from here. Why? They have the entire exchange floor… oh for God’s sake.”

Carmen returned to her pacing, stopping to look at the her watch, which she had laid out on the table next to her laptop. It said 3:48 pm.

“Fuck,” she muttered, looking up just in time to see Tom shoot her a resigned look as he left the dining room to go upstairs.

She took a seat at the table, scribbled some notes on a legal pad while one of her colleagues, voices crackling over the line from Manhattan, promised to sort everything out before their next call the following morning. But then an associate from the Chicago office had questions about social media best practices, and before she knew it, the time on Carmen’s watch was 4:35 pm.

Fuck indeed.

Carmen closed her laptop, and shoved it, along with her papers, into her briefcase. Standing there, just for a moment, she realized how exhausted she was. Both she and Tom had been working long hours. Laundry was piling up, and they were eating more takeout than usual. She tried to remember the last time they’d spent time not passed out on the couch after a few hours of pretending to pay attention to whatever was on tv.

Dropping her briefcase by the front door, Carmen sighed before going upstairs to see if Tom was still sulking. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he was.

* * *

There was no reason to be upset, Tom thought as he flopped, face down, onto his bed. He pushed off his shoes. Shrugged off his jacket. Flipping onto his back, Tom scooted up so his head rested neatly on the pillow. That was when Carmen’s small purple plush mouse was unsettled from his spot on the bed and fell against the side of Tom’s head.

Tom held the doll in both hands, studying it’s little felt eyes and small pink woolen nose. It’s purple fur was soft and silky to the touch. “Boh,” he said quietly, smiling. “Alas, poor Boh-rick, I knew him well.” Shaking his head, Tom set the doll carefully on Carmen’s nightstand.

The door to the bedroom was ajar, so he could still hear the sound of her voice floating up from the dining room. Snatches of conversation, her voice enunciating while the speakerphone sounded tinny and occasionally shrill. Carmen spoke of things like “risk management” and “option volatility shifts”. What was “legging the spread”, Tom wondered, and how did that relate to the “covering margin calls”.

He had no idea, which was his fault really. He actually did want to know what it was that Carmen actually did. Not just superficially, but in some depth. His logline for her was as follows: “My girlfriend is a vice president at the Pan-Atlantic Commodities Exchange, working on communications and strategy as it covers European options and futures trading.” But it didn’t seem to be enough.

It wasn’t the only logline he had. He had a few others for the rare occasions when people dared to ask about her. About them.

“Carmen and I met at a cultural event.” That was the abbreviated version of the answer he gave when asked about the circumstances of their first meeting. It revealed very little, if anything at all.

Then there was this: “Miss DiGregorio and I met during a tour of a university library, where we discovered a shared appreciation of Brutalist architecture.” This was a bit of a gloss. Appropriate for cocktail parties and receptions where he didn’t know people so much as know of them.

Tom hadn’t yet found the poetic way to say “We got asked to leave a prestigious library when we started arguing during a tour, and when we did we had sex for twelve hours straight in locations including (but not limited to) the floor of a limousine, against the floor to ceiling windows of a $750 a night hotel suite, and a very nice marble shower.”

It had been a while since he and Carmen had spent that much time in bed. Lately all they did in bed was sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d gone somewhere, either to cuddle up in a cottage in the Cotswolds or check into a luxury hotel to do nothing more than eat room service steaks and watch bad telly and test the soundproofing with loud messy sex. Not that they needed to go to all that trouble.

But couldn’t Tom be forgiven for thinking this was all a little boring? Not her, never, and not even him. But the two of them together. Lately he worried if they weren’t a bit precious. The afternoon date they had arranged had the promise of being pleasant if, well, dull. The Al Gore climate change documentary followed by dinner at yet another restaurant in Hampstead Village that specialized in organic farm-to-table British heritage fare. Walk home, snuggle on the couch, go up to bed for some nice heartfelt sex, and then do it all again the next day.

The sound of her on the telephone was beginning to make him drowsy. Falling asleep wouldn’t do, not when they’d made plans. Plans which were now ruined. Tom felt doubly cross — first at her, then at himself for being cross at her about having to take what sounded like an important call.

He shifted, unbuckling his jeans to make himself more comfortable. Tom’s hand brushed across the front, the rubbing of the fabric stirring his cock underneath. _No_ , he thought. _No wanking when… oof_. He knew as soon as she was off the phone she’d come upstairs, and they’d try to salvage their date afternoon.

But Carmen was still talking, and while the words were unintelligible, the tone seemed calmer. Softer. Deeper.

He always did like her voice. Talking to him, singing to herself while she was busy in the kitchen, and oh when she was coming to bed…

Tom touched himself, brushing his fingers over the wiry hair that trailed from his navel to the thicket of wiry pubic hair that began just below his stomach. He then used both hands to unzip his fly and, after lifting his hips, push down the waist of his jeans and his briefs so that his cock, half-hard and warm, could be released into his right hand. As he began to stroke himself, he circled the slit at the tip with his thumb. His left hand sought out his balls, cupping them gently.

Tom licked his right palm once, then again, and slid it back to his shaft. His touch was light, but he knew he should be squeezing if he wanted to finish soon. Jerk faster, get a picture in his mind so he could come fast. Just a quick one, something to relax him and get out of this strop. In his mind, Tom could see her. Carmen downstairs, pacing around the table still dressed for work, not aware of the run in her stocking that had caught his eye as soon as he came home. The faint sheen of her blouse against the skin of her throat. Her red lipstick, a little smudged from an afternoon of drinking her usual Diet Coke.

“Tom?”

He snapped to attention, hands still frozen on his cock and balls even as he lifted his head to find Carmen standing in the doorway. The top four buttons of her blouse were undone, revealing a scrap of black lace. Black lace bra under silky white, just over olive skin flushed dusky rose from…

“Tom.”

He was still frozen. “I…” Tom took a breath. “I’m sorry, I…”

“What are you sorry for?” Carmen asked quietly, deliberately. Her voice was breathy, almost sweet. But the look in her eyes was decidedly not.

“I was just a little tense and so I…” Tom watched her come into the room as he spoke. “I thought I might relax.”

Carmen leaned against the wall opposite him, a few feet beyond the foot of the bed. She rested her hands on the fronts of her thighs. “A nap? Or.” She licked her lips. “Something else.”

“Something like that,” said Tom.

“Well,” said Carmen carefully. “Don’t let me stop you.”

Tom grinned. “Will you be joining me darling?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

Carmen kept her eyes on him but did not move to the bed. Standing away from the wall, she reached behind her to unclasp the back of her skirt. Once it had fallen to the floor, she removed her blouse. Tom inhaled, anticipating what she might remove next. The lacy bra? The plain black cotton briefs that sat low on her hips, or the sheer stockings that went up to the waist.

“Show me, Tom.”

“Show you what, Carmen?”

“Show me how you do it.”

“Carmen, I…”

“Please.”

One word, whispered as she teased her nipples through the sheer cups of her bra.

“For me.”

Carmen brushed her left thumb across one nipple, then the other. They were darker when she was aroused, taking on a deep caramel hue. Tom wanted to take them in his mouth, suck on her breasts and tease the nipples with his tongue while fingering her. But when he saw that her gaze had returned to his hands, a look that was intent and strong and utterly present, Tom was powerless to do anything but obey.

He licked his palms, and sucked on his fingers, which made Carmen’s mouth fall open. Tom took himself in hand again, slowly tugging towards the end of his cock so the head was covered and exposed by the foreskin. It felt good but he needed it to feel more than good, he wanted…

“Ssshhh,” Carmen murmured, walking to the side of the bed. She looked at his face, her eyes soft and wet. “Slow down, baby.” She went into his nightstand and found a small bottle of lube. Taking his right hand, Carmen kissed the back of it before turning it over and dispensing a thin stream of the liquid into his palm. Tom waited until she gave him a brief nod before placing his hand back on his cock.

“Good, baby,” she murmured. She sat next on the bed, her thigh pressed against his. She turned her attention to his hand, admiring the look of his lube-slicked fingers as they curled and squeezed around his cock.

“Mmm.” Carmen smiled up at him. “Looks good enough to eat.”

Tom whined. “Button, please…”

“Hush.” She shook her head. “Show me.”

Carmen slipped a hand between his thigh, leaving it there even while his hand moved faster up and down his cock. When he twisted his wrist one way, Tom heard her moan.

“Oh yes,” she breathed. “You like that, don’t you?” Carmen slipped her free hand between her legs, working it under the waistband of the tights and then into her knickers. Her head fell back briefly when she found her clit. She flicked one way, giggling at the sensation.

“Carmen, I…” Tom’s voice sounded hoarse.

“No,” she purred. She blinked at the ceiling before meeting his gaze again. “No talking.”

He groaned, then quickened his face. His hand was stiff around his cock as he jerked it, the other hand kneading his balls. The feeling of her small, soft hand, still between his thighs, feeling but not moving to touch him, was maddeningly good. She should have already been lying next to him, or writhing on top, cock driving up into her tight, wet cunt while he held her tight around the hips. How could he pin her down, push her knees up to her shoulders, and fuck her deep and hard like he knew she loved.

Carmen arched her back and whimpered. She wasn’t coming yet but she was close. Tom’s eyes were closed when she withdrew her hand from between her legs, but he could smell her arousal when she took her fingers and slipped them into his panting mouth. He cried out, or made a sound like it, as he sucked. He licked her fingers clean, inhaling the scent and watching her face as he did.

She came in closer, lips just hovering above his own mouth while below his hands continued to stroke. He was going to come. He wanted to come. There was nothing stopping him. Everything in his body was tense, waiting for a trigger to be pulled…

And then Carmen kissed him. Licked inside the tender rim of his bottom lip, and then she tasted his tongue with her own. Their lips now sealed together, he could barely hear the words she spoke as she sucked at his tongue.

“Come.”

Now both of her hands held him around the base of his throat.

“Come for me.”

Tom gasped, almost gulping for air. His hips jerked erratically, and he spilled cum on his hands, his thighs, and stomach. It was warm and sticky and messy, and while this was far from being the first time he had made himself come it still came as a surprise. Little shocks pulsed through him, and he felt almost too sensitive. Vulnerable under her gaze, and beloved to her touch.

Carmen was careful as she got up, finding an old t-shirt on the floor to clean him before delicately draping herself over him. Despite the warmth of her body, he shivered.

“Sorry we missed the movie, love.” She kissed his shoulder.

“Oh, that’s…” Tom was slow to come back to himself.

Carmen shook her head. “No. You took time off. I shouldn’t have taken the call.”

“Work’s important.”

“I know,” she replied. “Do you still want to see a movie?”

“Did you really want to see a movie in the first place?”

Carmen looked at him shyly. “Yeah, but not that one.”

Tom grinned. “Why did you agree to see it in the first place?”

“Dunno,” said Carmen. “I figured we’d just ignore the movie while we made out in the back row.”

Tom laughed.

“So I just saved you £15.95, sporty.”

“Be reasonable, Button.” Tom kissed her lips. “I would have spent at least £18.75 for the fancy seats.”

“Really? I’m impressed, Cambridge.”

“Don’t be, love.” Tom hugged her tightly. “I would made you sneak in your own Diet Coke.”


End file.
